


A Third Party

by Robin Hood (kjack89)



Category: Law & Order: SVU
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon, Break Up, Established Relationship, Friendship, Humor, Humor With Feelings, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-08
Updated: 2017-05-08
Packaged: 2018-10-29 15:33:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,360
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10856892
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kjack89/pseuds/Robin%20Hood
Summary: Somehow, Fin and Rollins get caught in the middle of Carisi and Barba's break-up. But while Rollins offers actual advice, Fin's just hoping he makes it out without getting too involved.





	A Third Party

**Author's Note:**

> This was actually going to be a serious break-up fic, which is mostly where the Rollins and Barba side comes in, but the idea of Fin stuck in a car with Sonny during this was too funny to pass up, so I added a bit more humor and just hope that it works.
> 
> As per always, constructive criticism is welcomed and appreciated.
> 
> Usual disclaimer: I own nothing but my typos, many as there probably are. Please be kind and tip your fanfic writers in the form of comments and/or kudos.

“You’re quiet today,” Fin remarked, in a casual sort of way, as if he hadn’t just spent the last fifty minutes sitting in the car next to a silent Carisi. Truth be told, prior to the last fifty minutes, Fin hadn’t known that Carisi was capable of silence. And frankly, since Fin now knew it was an option, he didn’t necessarily want to ruin it, especially since whatever was bugging Carisi was undoubtedly something personal.

And Fin didn’t do personal.

Luckily, Carisi just grunted and shrugged, keeping his eyes peeled on the entrance to the apartment building they were staking out. “There’s the girlfriend,” he said, nodding towards her. “Our perp must’ve given her a key.”

“Low-life rapes two underage girls and then gives his girlfriend a key so he can seem like a family man,” Fin said, disgusted.

Carisi nodded in distracted agreement. “And after only dating her for, what, a week? Does he honestly think anyone’s gonna be fooled?”

Fin chuckled. “Maybe it’s true love,” he teased. “Didn’t you and Barba move in together after about three days?”

He had expected Carisi to laugh, or maybe blush a little. He had even resigned himself to Carisi using this as an opportunity to tell Fin all about his relationship with Barba, something that Fin didn’t really want to hear about under the best of circumstances, let alone when he was stuck in a car with Carisi.

Instead, Carisi’s shoulders tensed, and even in the dim light, Fin could see that his eyes were suddenly wet. _Oh shit_. “Barba and I—” Carisi started before his voice broke and he couldn’t seem to continue.

Fin desperately kept his eyes on the apartment building, trying to give absolutely no indication that he had noticed or any encouragement for Carisi to continue, but it didn’t matter. After he took a long, shuddering breath, Carisi finished, “Barba and I broke up.”

 _Shit_.

* * *

 

Rollins rubbed her eyes tiredly as she stared at the computer screen, wishing that she was on stakeout with Fin and Carisi. But this paperwork wasn’t going to finish itself, and Olivia would have her ass if she didn’t get it done.

Still, there was no way she was actually going to finish any of this without some caffeine, and she stood to head to the vending machine but stopped when she saw Barba step off the elevator. “Counselor,” she said, surprised. “What’re you doing here at this time of night?”

Barba barely spared her a disinterested glance, making a beeline for Olivia’s office. “Here to see Liv, actually—” he started, breaking off when he saw that Olivia’s office was empty. “And I’ll take it she’s not here.”

“She’s not,” Rollins confirmed. “Lucy got sick, so Liv went home to take care of Noah.” Barba nodded distractedly, and Rollins followed his line of sight to Carisi’s desk and hid a smile. Those two were the most obvious men she had ever met. “And if you’re looking for Carisi, he’s with Fin on a stakeout.”

Barba eyes snapped over to hers, and for a moment, he looked almost angry, though his voice was calm when he told her, “I’m not looking for Det. Carisi.”

Rollins found his sudden shift in attitude a little off-putting, and she shrugged, trying her best to keep the mood light. “Hey, it’s ok if you are,” she said, giving him her most winning Southern smile and trying to play it off like a joke. “I mean, we all know you’re a couple.”

“Were,” Barba said softly, and Rollins’ smile faded slightly.

“Beg pardon?” she asked.

Barba sighed. “We _were_ a couple.”

Rollins stared at him. “What the hell did you do?”

* * *

 

Fin gripped the steering wheel with both hands, staring straight ahead and mentally berating himself for being stupid enough to bring up Barba, because Carisi would not shut up. _This_ was the Carisi he’d come to expect on stakeouts, only instead of offering a thrilling review of every restaurant, bodega and hot dog cart within a five block radius, Carisi was telling Fin seemingly everything that had ever happened in his relationship with Barba. “And I just don’t know what happened,” he was saying, shaking his head, his sad puppy eyes wide. “We were so happy and then...I dunno. He just ended it.”

“Just like that?” Fin asked, a little skeptical.

“Pretty much,” Carisi said defensively, arms crossed in front of his chest.

Fin was sorely tempted to let it stand at that, to let Carisi wallow in what would mercifully be a return to the silence of before, but maybe it was the masochist in him or maybe it was just that he was too good of a detective to not want to get to the truth. “Listen, Barba’s a real piece of work,” he said carefully, “but he’s got his reasons for doing things. So he had to have given you some reason.”

Carisi shrugged, his expression turning almost petulant as he muttered, “Oh, he gave me a reason, but it was a bullshit reason.”

“Now that’s a different story,” Fin said. “What did he tell you?”

Carisi hesitated. “It’s complicated,” he hedged.

“And the complete tales of Sonny Carisi and Rafael Barba wasn’t?” Fin shot back. “C’mon. What’d he say?”

“He said that staying together for any longer would be a mistake because we wanted different things out of this relationship,” Carisi said, his voice flat. It was clear he’d committed this whole thing to memory and Fin winced at the harshness of the words. “He said that he wanted to end things out of fairness to me and so that I wouldn’t get invested and then get hurt.”

The way he spat the words indicated that Barba’s aim of not hurting Carisi had more than missed its mark, and Fin shook his head, smiling almost in spite of himself. “Son of a bitch,” he said, shaking his head. “Barba can talk in circles all day long, but when it comes down to it, he relies on the cliché.” At Carisi’s questioning look, Fin shrugged and told him, “He basically said, ‘It’s not you, it’s me’.”

Carisi blinked, realization dawning on his face. “Holy shit,” he said. “You’re right.”

* * *

 

Barba looked insulted. “Who said that I did anything?” he asked.

Rollins only just resisted the urge to put her hands on her hips like she did when she was lecturing Kim after she did something particularly stupid. “Because that boy has been head over heels for you from the get,” she said impatiently. “He’d never be the one to end things.”

What she didn’t say was that her assumption was in no small part because she’d always known it would end this way, as soon as she had realized that Carisi had it _bad_ for the ADA. Sure, it was cynical of her, but Carisi was a sweet man, and sweet men did not do well when they fell in love with assholes.

Judging by the look on Barba’s face, he was thinking roughly the same thing.

“Fine,” he sighed, sounding tired. “Yes, I ended things. Not that I need to justify myself or my relationships to you, Detective.”

There was enough of a warning there that if Rollins particularly cared about self-preservation, she might be tempted to let it be. But she’d split both bottles of wine and boxes of Kleenex with Sonny while they watched trashy reality shows, and maybe here that didn’t mean anything, but where Amanda came from, that was as deep a bond as anything. “Maybe not,” she said, “but that doesn’t mean I can’t ask. Why would you end things with Sonny, when even a blind man can see how much he loves you?”

Barba sighed again. “It’s complicated,” he said shortly, in a way that also implied _It’s none of your goddamned business_.

“Try me.”

Barba’s expression flickered. “Well, I might as well,” he said curtly, “since it’s in no small part that I have you to thank for our break-up.”

Rollins stared at him. Whatever she had expected him to say, that was certainly not it. “What do you mean?” she asked finally.

Barba waved a dismissive hand. “Your daughter,” he said, his voice sour. “Sonny is...devoted to her.”

Rollins’ hand immediately went to the gun holstered on her hip, because _no one_ brought up Jesse in that tone of voice, not if they knew what was good for them. “Yeah, because he’s a good friend,” she said, feeling gratified when Barba’s eyes flickered to her hand on her gun and he had the good sense to look chagrined. “And if you’re implying what I think you’re implying…”

She trailed off, and Barba’s eyes widened. “Of course not,” he said quickly, placatingly. “He _is_ a good friend. He would also make an excellent father.”

“What are you saying?” Rollins asked.

“ _He_ would make a good father,” Barba said carefully, his expression neutral. “I would not.”

For a moment, Rollins just stared at him, trying to figure out what the hell anything he was saying had led to his break-up with Carisi. Then, suddenly, it clicked, and she dropped her hand from her gun. “Sonny wants kids,” she said. “And you don’t.” Barba inclined his head slightly and Rollins frowned. “But what does that have to do with my daughter?”

Barba had the good grace to look slightly shamefaced, and he rubbed the back of his neck as he told Rollins, “It’s not your daughter’s fault, nor yours. That was unfair of me. But perhaps if Carisi wasn’t surrounded by women with babies, he wouldn’t be so inclined towards one of his own.”

Rollins’ frown deepened, because as many nights as Carisi had spent playing with Jesse or helping out when Amanda was too tired to do it all on her own, never once had Sonny said that he was ready for one of his own. In fact, between Jesse, Noah, and Sonny’s own nieces and nephews, Rollins had always gotten the feeling that Carisi was quite glad to go home to a child-free house. “And Sonny told you that he wanted kids?”

“He didn’t have to,” Barba said, his own brow furrowed. “He loves kids — loves spending time with Jesse, and Noah, and all the various Carisi relatives. You should see him when he gets home from spending time with you and Jesse.” Barba’s expression softened and became almost fond. “He would spend hours telling me about every little thing that Jesse did, when she would laugh or coo or do whatever it is babies do that people seem to find so sweet.” A hint of something that might be jealousy crept into his voice at that point and Barba broke off, looking frustrated. “It’s obvious that he wants kids,” he said finally. “And, frankly, that’s not something I see in my future. So it’s better to tell him that now than further down the road when he…”

He trailed off, and Rollins gave him a look. “When he gets attached?” she finished for him. “Because I hate to be the one to tell you, Counselor, but that ship has sailed.”

If possible, Barba looked even more frustrated. “I know that,” he snapped, in a fleeting moment of anger. “Which is why I should never have let things get started, or at the very least, ended them a lot sooner. I just...couldn’t.”

“Couldn’t?” Rollins asked quietly.

Barba met her gaze evenly. “Wouldn’t,” he corrected, equally as quiet.

Perhaps it would be better for Rollins to let that comment stand on its own, but she wasn’t a detective for nothing, and getting full confessions was part of the job. “Because you love him.”

She didn’t phrase it as a question, but Barba still shrugged and sighed, suddenly looking years older than he actually was. “Because I love him.”

* * *

 

“I can’t believe he pulled the ‘it’s not you, it’s me’ bullshit on me,” Carisi said, sounding torn between outrage and something almost like excitement, and Fin rolled his eyes, wondering if this was the first thing that Barba’s ever done to make Carisi reconsider whether the sun actually shone out the ADA’s ass.

Fin wisely chose not to say that, if only because the excitement had faded and Carisi looked puppy-dog wounded again. “He couldn’t think of a better reason to break up with me?” he asked quietly, and Fin gritted his teeth and mentally thanked his son for avoiding ever having this conversation with him.

“Maybe he had a better reason,” Fin offered, not sure if it’d help or hurt the situation. “Maybe he said that because he didn’t want to hurt you with the real reason.”

Carisi huffed a sigh and crossed his arms in front of his chest. “If he didn’t want to hurt me, he has a shitty way of showing it,” he muttered, but he looked a little less wounded, and Fin took that as a good sign. “But what do you think the real reason would be?”

Fin could think of about eighteen thousand reasons to dump Carisi’s ass, and that was just off the top of his head, the least of which was the way that Carisi was looking at him like a puppy begging for attention. Fin had never been that big of a dog person.

But he also would have had to be blind to not notice that while he only barely tolerated Carisi’s puppy antics, ADA Barba instead seemed to lap up the attention, as much as Carisi ate up every barbed comment Barba shot his way. So whatever Barba’s reasoning, it probably wasn’t related to that. “Hell if I know,” Fin said, in lieu of a better answer. “That’s probably a question for him.”

Carisi’s face tightened slightly. “You’re probably right,” he admitted reluctantly, and sweet silence fell in the car again until it was inevitably broken by Carisi asking, “So do you think I should call him?”

Fin just heaved a sigh and declined to tell Carisi just what he thought he should go do.

* * *

 

“Pardon me for saying so, Counselor, but that’s a pretty dumb reason to break things off,” Rollins said bluntly.

If Barba was taken aback by her tone, he didn’t show it. “Your concern for your colleague is touching,” he said instead, his tone cool, “but if you’ll pardon me for saying so, it’s none of your damn business.”

As far as snarky comebacks went, it was weak, and both Rollins and Barba knew it. Rollins opened her mouth to say as such, but paused when she saw the look on Barba’s face, and just how exhausted he really looked. Even his normally pristine clothes seemed wrinkled and limp, and maybe it was her daughter or just the part of Rollins that had always been a little Mama Bear, but Rollins’ expression softened. “You’re my colleague, too,” she said instead, and Barba looked up at her, surprised. “And more than that — you’re both my friends.”

“I didn’t realize I had ascended to the level of friend,” Barba murmured, his snark more rote than sincere. “Now I’ll have to add you to my Christmas card list.”

Rollins ignored him. “Which is why you’re gonna need to fix this,” she continued as if she hadn’t noticed the interruption. “Because honestly, I think you’re overestimating how much Carisi wants kids.” Barba blinked and Rollins let him mull that for a few seconds before adding, her mouth quirking slightly, “Besides, you should really see him with Frannie — I think he’d much rather have a dog.”

Barba laughed, a genuine, if slightly surprised laugh, and Rollins smiled as well. “Well, that we might be able to discuss,” he said quietly before hesitating and asking, “You’re sure that Sonny doesn’t want kids?”

“I’m sure that this is a conversation that you really should’ve had with him before you jumped the gun and broke his heart,” Rollins said, her smile fading, and she was tempted to rest her hand on her gun again just to underline the threat. “And I’m also sure that if you talked to him now, he’d probably be willing to forgive you.”

She didn’t tell Barba that she was also fairly convinced that if it came down to it, Sonny would pick Barba over the potential of kids, no matter how big a mistake she might personally think that was. Then again, if he had broken up with Sonny over it, perhaps Barba also thought that choice would be a mistake.

In either case, Rollins had interfered about as much as she felt was safe, and so she did finally rest her hand back on her gun as she fixed Barba with her most Southern _fuck-you-very-much_ smile. “So are you gonna talk to him?”

Barba gave Rollins a wry smile. “As if I would tell you otherwise right now and risk getting shot,” he said, though she had a feeling he was being sincere despite the snark.  

“Now, Counselor, I’m not gonna shoot you,” Rollins said sweetly. “Of course, do something this stupid again, and well…” She trailed off ominously and Barba laughed lightly.

“You don’t have to tell me twice,” he said, holding up his hands in surrender. “And Det. Rollins—” He hesitated for a moment. “I am going to talk to Sonny. I can’t promise we’ll work everything out, but I can promise that I’m willing to try.” Another brief hesitation before he finally managed, “And thank you.”

Rollins’ smile widened. “That actually hurt you to say, didn’t it?”

Barba gave a mock shudder. “You have no idea.”

* * *

 

Carisi was still giving Fin his most pathetic puppy-dog eyes and Fin was wondering if a jury would be willing to consider him killing Carisi as ‘justified’. “I mean, what do you think?” Carisi asked, a little too eagerly, for about the eighteenth time. “Should I call him?”

Fin snapped. “Call him, text him, send smoke signals, I don’t give a damn, just _shut up_ about it.”

For just a brief moment, Carisi looked taken aback, and Fin felt dread curl in the pit of his stomach at the thought of that stupid wounded look returning to Carisi’s face. Instead, Carisi brightened. “That’s a good idea,” he said, pulling out his phone.

“What, smoke signals?” Fin joked.

“No,” Carisi said, completely serious. “Text. That way it gives him time to respond and we can go from there.”

It was, admittedly, not the stupidest idea Carisi had ever had, but Fin was damned if he was going to say that. Luckily, he was saved from having to say anything by Carisi’s phone pinging, and if possible, Carisi brightened even more. “He says that we should talk!” he crowed triumphantly, holding his phone up in victory. “That’s gotta count for something, right?”

“Since the worst he can do is break up with you again…” Fin muttered, but Carisi ignored him, typing out his assumedly enthusiastic response.

“Thanks, Fin,” he said sincerely when he was done, and Fin looked over at him, unsurprised to see Carisi positively beaming at him. “Seriously. I never would’ve done this if you hadn’t encouraged me. And if ever you need it, I’m happy to return the favor.”

Fin stared at him, trying to gauge whether he was serious. “Uh, no worries,” he said. “And, uh, I don’t think that’ll be necessary.”

Carisi’s smile didn’t fade. “Well, in any case, the next time I’ve got a problem with Barba, at least I know exactly who I can come and talk to for some good advice.”

Wordlessly, Fin leaned forward to rest his forehead against the steering wheel, trying very hard to resist the urge to repeatedly thud his head against it in a vain attempt to save him from even the thought of Carisi coming to him for future love advice. “You ok?” Carisi asked, with genuine concern, and Fin didn’t even lift his head to respond.

“All good,” he said, mentally repeating his wish from the past two hours that the perp would just show up already so that he could draw his gun and shoot something besides Carisi, which would just cause more paperwork than it was worth.


End file.
